Maiden of Laketown
by BobwhiteBobwhite
Summary: Ara is doing her best to be a good wife and a mother of sorts. But unexpected visitors and the threat of dragon fire could destroy everything.
1. Laketown

Ara marched purposefully across the molded wooden planks along the canal. Her home lay not too much further on, sagging under the weight of its own patched wooden roof. She shifted her basket to the other arm and adjusted her collar.

The sun gave little comfort on this autumn morning and seemed to realize it, for it was setting early. A fine mist lay across the water and steam came out in tired puffs from the mouths of the people of Laketown. The chimneys coughed lazily into the frosted purple sky as mothers all over the town began to cook supper. A chill breeze pinched at Ara's pale cheeks and nose, giving them a rosy glow. The tops of her ears burned slightly as she hurried on her way, clutching the basket of hard-won bread close to her side.

She waved to some familiar fishermen, who waved back absently as they lifted their nets and lures for the night. Lenna, the seamstress, smiled as she walked past Ara, carrying bundles of fabric.

"Good evening, Ara," the seamstress said.

"Evening, Lenna," Ara said, smiling as she passed, "How are you?"

"Fine! Fine," Lenna said as both of them continued walking.

As Ara approached the house, she was alarmed to see Alfrid Lickspittle enter the walkway from another side street.

Alfrid was a greasy and shady councillor of the Master of Laketown. It was well-known that he was a greedy and power-hungry sleaze and wherever he went, there was trouble. He had a wolfish grin on his sallow face as if he had just been up to mischief. His black unibrow bunched up in the middle like an oily well-fed centipede.

Ara bowed her head slightly and hoped he would walk by without noticing her. But it was no use. With a lick and a loud smack of his lips, he said, "Ah, Ara! What a pleasant surprise."

Ara bit back a groan, met his eye and smiled politely, "Good evening, Alfrid, sir."

"I saw your husband on his way out this morning," Alfrid said conversationally, licking his horsey front teeth.

"That's nice," Ara said quickly, "He should be back quite soon; it is nearly six o' clock."

Alfrid blinked, "Indeed. And how are the bargeman's children doing?"

"Our children," Ara said, with a slight edge to her voice, "are doing just fine. I hate to be rude, sir, but I do have bread here that will get cold if I stand out here talking too long. I'm sure you understand."

She batted her eyelashes at him, throwing him off guard.

"Of course, madam," he said, bowing, "I do hope your night is a lovely one."

Ara hurried on her way, walking as fast as she could without running as she could feel Alfrid's hungry eyes on her back. She reached the house and went in out of the cold, lifting the cloth on the basket and checking on the bread she'd purchased for her family.


	2. The Bargeman's Children

"Ara, is that you?" Sigrid's voice cried from the great room.

"Yes, dear," Ara called back, "I've got bread for supper tonight."

She entered the great room just as the bargeman's youngest daughter, Tilda, rose from the floor and ran to greet her.

"Oh, good! Thank you, Ara!" Tilda cried, throwing her arms around Ara's waist and smiling up at her with her deep blue eyes.

The bargeman's son, Bain, looked up from his chair by the fireplace. "So that's why you've been skimming out in the docks."

"You don't have to do that," said Sigrid, the oldest daughter.

"I don't mind working a little extra to get treats for my family," Ara said with a grin, walking forward with Tilda still holding onto her waist.

"Can we eat it now?" Tilda asked excitedly.

Ara chuckled. "We have to wait for your father to come home, darling."

Tilda let go of Ara, shrugged, and smiled sweetly, "Alright."

"Your chores are finished?" Ara asked, "I want your da to be able to relax when he comes home."

"Yes," the children responded in unison.

"Good," Ara said, setting the bread basket down on the table, "Sigrid, Tilda, will you help me chop some meat and vegetables? And Bain, will you please fetch us some water for the soup?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bain said tiredly.

"Thank you, son," Ara said as she and the girls crowded into the tiny kitchen.

"What kind of bread did you get us, Ara? Is it sweet bread?" Asked Tilda, tapping some celery with a knife but not doing much cutting

"It is," Ara said, grinning as she and Sigrid began chopping the other vegetables and the rabbit meat, "the sweetest bread in Laketown."

Bain returned with the pot of water, which he hung over the fireplace.

"Ooh! Did you hear that, Bain?" Tilda cried, "The bread that Ara bought us is the sweet kind! My favorite!"

Sigrid took over Tilda's celery and chopped it quickly and Ara placed the vegetables and meat into the water and salted it. It was nothing glamorous, but it kept the family fed.

"I see you made some more progress on that net, Bain," Ara said, eyeing the tangle of black cords hanging in the corner, "It looks good. You've done a fine job."

"Thank you, ma'am," Bain said, settling down on a stool next to the fire, "It's not as good as the ones Da makes."

"Well," Ara said, "Your father's been making nets since he was your age. He's had a lot of practice. You're catching up quickly."

Bain gave her a small grin.

Sigrid went across the room, grabbed her knitting and brought it back to her own stool. "Ara, look," she said, "I can't figure out how to curve around the thumb for these mittens I'm making for Tilda."

"Those are for me?" Tilda asked, sitting on stool next to her sister.

"Let's see," Ara said, also sitting next to Sigrid.

She examined the beginnings of a pair of blue mittens. "These are beautiful. Just make short rows along here…" she pointed.

The front door opened and closed, letting in a short blast of cold air and a tall, grim yet handsome man with black hair, neatly trimmed facial hair, fair skin and tired brown eyes. On his left shoulder, he carried a coil of thick rope. His brown coat had yet another new tear that must've happened just today.

Bard the bargeman had returned. He dropped his length of rope next to the door and let out a sigh.


	3. Could Have

"Da!" Tilda yelled, running to him and hugging him tightly, "How are you?"

The bargeman smiled and hugged his youngest daughter back, picking her up and carrying her back to where the rest of the family sat.

"The house is clean and warm, the chores are done, dinner smells wonderful, I have the best children in the world " the bargeman said, setting Tilda down to hug Sigrid and Bain.

"And the most magnificent wife," he added, embracing Ara and kissing her softly, "I'd have to say I am the happiest man alive."

Tilda pulled on her father's jacket. "Da! Guess what Ara's brought for us!"

"What is it, my sweet?" Bard laughed, sitting on a stool and lifting Tilda onto his knee.

"Ara's bought us sweet bread to go with our supper!" Tilda said excitedly.

"Sweet bread," Bard said, his smile fading only a little as he looked at his wife, "a rather expensive treat, is it not?"

"She's been taking jobs at the docks skimming for moss to give to the apothecary again," Sigrid explained.

"Oh, Ara," Bard said, gazing at her, "What is the occasion?"

"There is none," Ara said, smiling, "Do I need an occasion to spoil my very favorite people?"

"My dears," the bargeman said with a sad smile, "We, all four of us, could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve someone as good and wonderful as Ara."

Ara blushed in the light of the fire as she avoided Bard's loving gaze. "Well, children, your father's been out working hard all day. I imagine he's quite hungry, don't you? Shall we eat?"

Tilda hopped off Bard's lap enthusiastically and went to fetch some bowls and spoons.

She handed the bowls one by one to Ara, who filled them with soup and passed them out.

"How was work today, my love?" Ara asked when the family was all settled down.

"Fine," Bard said, "Nothing to report. Delivering wine to the elves, picking up their empty barrels. The usual. What's new around here?"

"Well," Ara said, "Bain worked on that net some more. Sigrid has been knitting some mittens for her sister. Tilda…"

"I read a whole page of one of Ara's books out loud with no help!" Tilda said excitedly.

"She did," Ara said with a proud nod.

"How was I blessed with such talented children?" Bard asked, smiling at each child. He turned to Ara, "What about you, love?"

"Oh, I haven't been up to much," Ara said quietly.

The family was quiet for a while.

"Although," Ara said with a laugh, "I did have a bit of a run-in with Alfrid Spitsucker today."

The children laughed at the name and Bard smiled. "Oh? What happened?" He asked, hiding the concern in his voice.

"Oh, the usual…" Ara said, squinting up her eyes and pushing her lips out in an impression of Alfrid, "I have enough money to buy half of Laketown, you know. I hate Bard and his stupid handsome face. You should've married me and we could've had greasy little unibrow babies."

The three children nearly fell out of their chairs with laughter and even Bard couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ara could've married Alfrid Lickspittle, really," Bain said quietly after he'd calmed down, "And she would've been the richest lady in Laketown."

"She could've dressed like a princess," Tilda said, "and had tea parties with the Master with lots of cake and fancy sandwiches."

"And she wouldn't have had to skim for moss in the docks to buy bread for someone else's children," Bain concluded.

"Bain," Bard began firmly, but Ara smiled and gently placed her hand on his.

"I think of you three as my own children and I love you no less than if you were," she spoke quietly, "and I would rather work in the docks every day and sleep in a pig pen every night and eat leftover corn cobs than be without any of you."

"And we would do the same for you," Sigrid said with a smile.

"Thank you," Ara said, placing a hand on Sigrid's shoulder, "Shall we clean up and get to bed?"

The children helped with the dishes, undressed and got into bed. Bard kissed each of their foreheads and bade them goodnight as he always did.

"Goodnight Sigrid, dear," Ara said, kissing her forehead.

Sigrid was becoming a beautiful young woman. Her long, silky brown hair spread across her pillow and her long eyelashes drooped sleepily over her doe-like brown eyes.

"Goodnight, Ara," she replied.

"Goodnight, Bain," Ara continued, kissing the boy's forehead.

He looked quite like his father, with dark hair and pale skin, but his eyes were different. A deep blue. A memory of his mother. He only smiled tiredly back up at her.

"Goodnight, Tilda, my sweet," Ara said, pushing the same long brown hair out of the way kissing the youngest child's soft forehead.

"Goodnight, Mum," Tilda said, nodding off.

Ara smiled and then left the room.

She found her husband in their bedroom, sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

Ara undressed and crawled up behind him. She gently began to massage his shoulders.

"Get to sleep," she whispered into his ear, "You've worked hard all day."

Bard was quiet for a moment before saying, "And yet it's not enough."

"What do you mean?" Ara asked, resting her head on the bargeman's back and wrapping her arms around his waist, "You keep a roof over our heads, food in our mouths and clothes on our backs. Who could ask for more than that?"

Bard broke free from her grasp and stood up. "You could have," he said, "When I asked your father for your hand, you already had several other suitors, richer men than I. My children were right. You could've had beautiful dresses and fine silks and more food than you could possibly eat. And instead, I burdened you with so much responsibility."

Ara stared at the bargeman for a while, taking in his tired eyes and wrinkled brow.

"Why did you do it then? You didn't need another wife, there are many highly qualified ladies in the town that would've made excellent nannies."

Bard's face softened and a smile crept onto his lips. "Well, I wanted you. We'd talk in the marketplace from time to time and I fell in love with your smile and your good heart. I knew there was no one else for me but you."

He stepped toward his wife and brushed a piece of her hair aside.

"The fact that my children loved you too was confirmation of what I already knew," he said with a laugh.

His smile faded a bit as he said, "You deserve the world, Ara, and I only wish I could give it to you."

"You are my world," Ara said with a smile, "Come to bed now. It is late."


	4. Set Your Sights Elsewhere

"It really is beautiful, Netch," Ara said, admiring the craftsmanship of the cradle, "The finest woodwork I've seen in years."

Netch pushed his spectacles up his nose and smiled. "Thank you, dear. Still enjoying that rocking chair I made years ago?"

"Of course," Ara said with a grin, "It still puts me to sleep if I'm not careful. I imagine a cradle like this would cost a pretty penny."

"The wood comes from the shore, not far away. I wouldn't charge a high price if the right buyer came along," Netch said, examining Ara as if she were keeping a secret, "I say, you've never showed this much interest in any of my other cradles. Perhaps you're in need of one?"

"Oh, no, not me," Ara said, taking a step back, "Only admiring for now."

"Well…" Netch said, obviously disappointed that he wasn't going to be the first to hear some new gossip, "If you're ever looking to buy, you know where I am."

"Yes sir," Ara said, "Thank you, sir. Have a nice day."

Ara went to the produce vendors down the street and began to look for the freshest cabbage she could find. She found one that seemed promising and as she lifted it up to make sure, a yellow flower brushed her nose.

The hand holding the flower belonged to none other than Alfrid Lickspittle.

"Lovely morning, eh, Miss Ara?" He said greasily.

"It is," Ara said, backing away from the flower.

"And what is a beautiful woman like yourself doing here? Shouldn't you be taking care of your husband's children?" Alfrid asked.

"I stepped out to get cabbage for tonight's supper," Ara said, "and Sigrid is fourteen years old. I'm sure she and the others can manage for a short time.."

"A short time," Alfrid repeated, "Long enough for their step-mother to join me for a short lunch at the Master's house?"

He pushed the flower into Ara's braid and smiled.

"I'm afraid not," Ara said, "I appreciate the offer, sir, but I have a great deal of work to do."

She hurriedly finished purchasing her cabbage with Alfrid on her heels.

"Certainly there's no work to be done that Sigrid, who is so capable, could not do herself," the master's advisor sneered.

Ara put her cabbage into her basket, turned to Alfrid and said firmly, "Sir, I am a happily married woman. I have been for years now and it's about time you set your sights elsewhere."

She took the flower out of her hair, dropped it, and began to storm away.

"You might change your tune," Alfrid said, "when Bard is executed for treason."

Ara stopped and turned to look at him. He was scowling threateningly. She ignored him and continued on her way, not stopping until she was home. She locked the door behind her and looked out the window just in time to see a pair of fisherman surreptitiously stop their boat in front of the house.


	5. Who's Watching Us?

"Anything wrong, Ara?" Sigrid asked. She was sitting by the fire, knitting again. She had nearly finished Tilda's mittens.

"No, just…" Ara said, "Alfrid said something that worried me, is all. I'm sure I'm overreacting. I hope your father is home soon."

"What did Alfrid say?" Bain asked.

Ara smiled and shook her head. "Never mind, love. Your net looks just wonderful. You've made a lot of progress today. Did you scrub the rust off of the fishing tools like your father asked?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bain said, "they're over there. I haven't put them back yet."

"Oh," Ara said thoughtfully, "Could you put them back right now please?"

"Yes ma'am," Bain said, wrapping the fishing tools up in the thick canvas bag and taking them outside.

Ara watched out the window. As soon as the fishermen saw Bain, they switched their poles to the opposite side of the boat. When Bain returned, the fishermen switched the poles back.

Ara locked the door behind Bain.

"Children, listen," Ara said quietly.

The children leaned in close to her.

"I don't know what's happening or why," Ara continued, "but our house is being watched. For now, let us all stay inside."

"Who's watching us?" Bain asked.

"I don't know, but I think it must be someone associated with the Master," Ara said, thinking of her conversation with Alfrid.

Ara and the children spent a tense afternoon playing card games, trying to forget the situation outside.

Afternoon melted into early evening.

"Bain, will you go to the barge docks and make sure your father knows that the house is being watched?" Ara asked, "I would go myself, but I've already caused enough trouble today. Bring your dagger with you."

Bain gulped and nodded. He hid his dagger away in his jacket and left the house to go meet his father at the dock.

"Do you think Da's alright?" Tilda asked.

"I'm sure he's fine," Ara said, "your father is a brave man. That must be where you three get it from."

Tilda smiled proudly.

Bain and Bard showed up shortly afterward, safe and unharmed.


	6. Visitors

Once inside the house, Bard hugged his daughters and kissed his wife. "We have company tonight, my love."

"Company?" Ara asked.

He handed a bag to Sigrid. "Here's something to eat. Bain, get them in."

Ara was confused, but Bain seemed to know what to do, for he descended the stairs to the toilet.

"Bard, what's going on?" Ara asked.

"Do you have enough to make supper for fourteen?" Bard asked.

"Fourteen?!" Ara whispered hoarsely.

A strange grunting noise came from downstairs. Sigrid and Tilda went forward to investigate in time to come face to face with an angry-looking dwarf.

The top of his head was bald and he had a long, coarse brown beard. He was soaking wet and dripping water onto the floor.

"Heavens," Ara breathed. She ran to the closet to grab some blankets, wondering what on earth her husband had gotten them into.

When she got into the kitchen again, she found that two more dwarves had appeared in her absence.

"Da? Why are there dwarves climbing out of our toilet?" Sigrid asked.

"Will they bring us luck?" Tilda asked excitedly.

Ara laughed. "Girls, will you help me pass out these blankets and go get more?"

The girls obeyed. More and more dwarves filtered in until there were fourteen dwarves crowding the kitchen. All the dwarves were strange, but one must've been a different breed than the rest for he had abnormally large hairy feet and no beard.

"Thank you, madam," this strange dwarf said, stopping her on her way to the kitchen, "I realize this must be a great inconvenience for you."

"Not at all, master dwarf," Ara said, grinning, "it's not often we get visitors."

"Oh, I'm not a dwarf. I'm a hobbit. From the shire," the creature said, holding out his hand, "Bilbo Baggins of Bag End at your service."

"Ah, I knew you must be different," Ara smiled and shook his hand, "Ara of Esgaroth, at yours."

Ara hurried to prepare a batch of cabbage soup large enough for their guests.

Things were quiet apart from a few shuffling feet and sniffing noses.

A gruff voice breathed, "a Dwarvish wind-lance."

The voice seemed to be coming from a handsome, well dressed dwarf next to the window. He stared out at something there with a wistful look in his blue eyes. The sun illuminated his fair brow and brought out the silver in his mane of black hair. Certainly he came from a noble lineage, though Ara was not very familiar with any Dwarfish royalty.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Bilbo piped up, coming to stand by this dwarf.

"He has," another dwarf-- one with yellowing white hair-- spoke, going to join them, "The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came."

He could've been talking about only one dragon. The accursed beast who slept in the Lonely Mountain not far from Laketown. It had been many years since the dragon had burned down Dale and made himself ruler of the Dwarf kingdom of Erebor which lay in the mountain.

"The day that Smaug destroyed Dale, Girion, the lord of the city, rallied his bowmen to fire upon the beast," the white haired dwarf continued, "but a dragon's hide is tough; tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow fired from a wind-lance could've pierced the dragon's hide, and few of those arrows were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand."

Ara looked at Bard. He was a descendant of Lord Girion, she knew. And everyone in Esgaroth knew the story of the dragon's destruction of Dale. Though in this family, the story was told a little differently.

"Had the aim of men been true that day," the handsome dwarf said, "much would have been different."

Bard stepped forward. "You speak as if you were there," he said, almost suspiciously.

"All dwarves know the tale," the dwarf said quickly, almost defensively.

"Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon," Bain said, "He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would've killed the beast."

The first dwarf to come into the house laughed. "That's a fairy story lad, nothing more."

It had been 150 years since the dragon laid waste to Dale. But it had always been told in Bard's family that Girion did hit the dragon. Ara believed it, but there was no way to prove such a tale to be true.

"You took our money," the handsome dwarf said to Bard, "Where are the weapons?"

Ara's turned her head swiftly in surprise, looking at her husband as if expecting to get an explanation.

"Wait here," Bard said to the dwarf. He left the house out the back.

The dwarves whispered amongst themselves. Ara only caught snippets, "Durin's Day" and "quest".

Bard returned with his bundle of makeshift weapons that he kept beneath the deck.

The dwarves seemed unsatisfied. The handsome one picked up a device with several curved spikes. "What is this?"

"Pike-hook," Bard explained, "made from an old harpoon."

"And this?" another dark-haired dwarf asked.

"A crowbill, we call it," Bard said, "fashioned from a smithy's hammer. It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none."

The dwarves groaned. "We paid you for weapons! Iron-forged swords and axes!"

"It's a joke!" another cried.

Ara stood up, feeling worried now. The dwarves were short but powerful and many.

"You won't find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key," Bard explained.

"Thorin," the white haired dwarf spoke up, "Why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less. So have you. I say we leave now."

"You're not going anywhere," Bard said firmly.

"What did you say?!" The first dwarf bellowed angrily.

"There are spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait until nightfall."

Hearing this, the dwarves seemed to calm down a bit. Bard took a step outside.

"Sigrid, Tilda," Ara said, "help me pass out soup to these good guests of ours."

The girls obeyed as Ara announced, "Cabbage soup my friends. I know it is not much, but I hope it will strengthen you for your journey."

The handsome dwarf -- the one they called Thorin -- stopped her after she'd given him a bowl of soup.

"You are a good woman. Thank you for your kindness," he said. Then he kissed the back of her hand softly and she blushed and went on her way.

She stopped when she gave a bowl to the other young, dark-haired dwarf. He seemed to be growing paler by the second and it took her a moment to realize why.

His leg was crusted with blood and it seemed that even more blood was still coming.

"You're hurt?" Ara asked, kneeling down to look at the wound.

"I'm fine," the dwarf said, jerking his leg away.

"You look sick," Ara said, "let me help you. I will run to the grocers and find you medicine."

She stood up and said quietly to Sigrid, "I'll only be gone for a moment. Give them whatever they need and don't let them leave."

With this, she ventured out again onto the molded walkway of the canals outside.

She hurried down the market road coming to a stop at the healer's booth. She handed the old man a coin and in return he gave her a small vial of medicine.

She placed this in her pocket and hurried back home. She and Bard met at the door.

"Ara? Where have you been?" Bard asked.

"Getting medicine," Ara said, "where were you?"

Bard did not answer but opened the door for her.

Bain rushed forward, "Da! I tried to stop them!"

The dwarves were gone, leaving their blankets in their wake.


	7. Everything Will Burn

"How long have they been gone?!" Bard asked in alarm.

Without waiting for an answer, he shut the door and left again.

Ara sighed. "Well, if today isn't the strangest day I've ever had, may I be struck dead. Come on, let's clean up. I don't know what your da is doing but I trust he does."

Ara and the children got to work gathering up and washing the dishes and the blankets.

It was well after nightfall that Bard returned. His body seemed heavy and sluggish and his face was hard and grim.

"Bard," Ara breathed, rushing to greet him.

"Da!" The children cried, also running to him.

"My dears," Bard said thoughtfully, pulling all four of them close to him, "It seems our guest, Thorin, is the true King Under the Mountain."

Ara remembered the noble looking dwarf. She never would have guessed that he was the Lord of Silver Fountains as told of in the legends.

"It is time for bed," Bard said.

His children dared not argue but got themselves to bed at once.

Bard sat on a stool and stared pensively into the fire.

"You have not told me everything, have you?" Ara asked, sitting down beside him.

"I'm afraid," Bard said after a pause, "that Thorin and his company are on their way to the Lonely Mountain where they intend to reclaim the treasure within."

"But, the dragon…" Ara began.

"As far as we know, the dragon still lives. If the beast is awakened, he will destroy Esgaroth," Bard said, "Everything will burn."

Ara placed a hand to her mouth. The pair of them sat together in silence for a while.

The fire grew slowly dimmer as time wore on. Ara took of Bard's noble face, handsome and almost fierce in the light of the fire.

"Do not worry about it any more tonight," Ara said, kissing her husband's cheek, "come to bed, my love."

"Give me another moment," Bard said quietly.

"I'll be waiting," she said, placing a hand on his arm for a moment before leaving the room.


	8. The Black Arrow

There was a knock on the door early the next morning.

Bard opened it to find four of the dwarves from yesterday.

"No," Bard said, "I'm done with dwarves. Go away."

"Wait!" one dwarf with an odd hat cried, "Kili's sick. He's very sick."

Ara stepped forward. "Bard please," she said quietly.

Bard said nothing but let the dwarves enter. Ara gathered up some blankets and made a place for Kili in the corner.

The young dwarf looked sicker than ever. His face had lost almost all of its color. He could barely speak and hardly move.

He groaned as he was lowered onto the blankets.

His wound was coated in a thick, black layer of dried blood.

Ara prepared a bowl of hot water for the gray-haired dwarf, who seemed to be the healer among them.

"What is your name, sir?" Ara asked him.

"Oin, ma'am," the dwarf replied.

"Oin," Ara said, handing him the bottle of medicine, "I got this for our dear friend yesterday before you decided to leave. Might it help?"

Oin took the bottle gratefully, "There is no harm in trying."

For hours, the whole house labored over Kili, doing everything they could think of.

"I need herbs. Something to bring down his fever," Oin said.

Bard searched through his bag of medicines. "We have nightshade, feverfew…"

"They're no use to me," Oin interrupted, "Do you have any Kingsfoil?"

"No," Bard said, "it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs."

The dwarf with the hat -- Bofur was his name -- stood up, "Pigs? Weed? Right. Don't move."

With that, he ran out of the house and into the night.

Ara knelt on the floor next to Kili and placed his head in her lap. She gently dabbed at his face with a damp rag, humming an unfamiliar tune.

Nothing seemed to be helping the young dwarf.

A loud rumble shook the whole house. Everyone inside froze.

"The dragon," Ara whispered.

"Da?" Sigrid asked worriedly.

"It's coming from the mountain," Bain said.

Kili's brother, Fili, stood up and approached Bard.

"You should leave us," he said, "Take your family; get out of here."

"And go where?" Bard asked hopelessly, "There is nowhere to go."

"Are we going to die, Da?" Tilda asked, tears forming in her eyes.

Ara gently set Kili's head back down and stood to hold Tilda in her arms.

"No, darling," Bard assured his youngest child gently.

"The dragon," Tilda said, now beginning to cry, "It's going to kill us."

Ara held Tilda tightly, "Tilda, sweetheart…"

There was a tense moment of silence before Bard reached up and pulled down an arrow that had been hidden before.

It was a black arrow. The kind used by Girion in the days of old.

Ara gazed at Bard with a new kind of breathless admiration as he held the black arrow in his strong, calloused hands. She was reminded, once more, that her husband was truly a king among men.

"Not if I kill it first," Bard said bravely, "Bain, come along. I need your help."

"Be careful," Ara whispered, kissing Bard and hugging Bain tightly.

The two of them left the house and the rest continued to do all they could to help Kili, whose life seemed to be fading by the minute.


	9. Orcs

"The wound just won't stop bleeding," Oin said, "I fear the arrow that shot him must've been poisoned."

"That's some nasty poison," Ara said, "What kind of poison could do that?"

"He was shot by an orc," Oin explained, "There's no telling what kind of evil could be at work here."

"An orc?!" Ara asked, her voice squeaking slightly in alarm, "I didn't think they still roamed these lands."

"Aye," Oin said, continuing to labor over his young friend.

It seemed hours before Bain returned alone.

"Bain? What happened? Where is your father?" Ara asked anxiously.

"The guards were chasing him," Bain said, "he was wanted by the Master. I do not know if he got away."

"No…" Ara whispered, "Tilda, will you please gather everyone's coats? I fear we may have to leave in a hurry."

Tilda nodded and obeyed.

Sigrid went out onto the balcony. Ara heard her whisper, "Da? Is that you?"

Ara jumped up, thinking that Bard had somehow gotten home unharmed.

Sigrid received no answer and started to come back inside when a vicious roar sounded behind her and a horrifying creature appeared. A mutilated gray mass known as an orc, though they hadn't been seen in these parts for many years.

In a frenzy of motion, Ara grabbed a harpoon, pushed Sigrid back and killed the orc. She had no time to celebrate her victory, for another appeared just as swiftly as the last.

The dwarves and Ara sprung into action holding off these new devilish companions as they appeared. Just as the fight was becoming hot, a pair of tall, graceful beings destroyed the orcs easily.

The attack over, Ara had time to recognize their rescuers. Elves, both of them, a male and a female. The male had long, silvery blonde hair and the female had long, soft ginger curls.

"You killed them all," Bain said, still rather shocked.

"There are others. Come, Tauriel," the male elf commanded, heading toward the door.

Tauriel, as she was called, seemed to recognize the dwarves, for she looked at Kili with concern.

It seemed that she had resolved to follow her companion and she walked out of the door only to come back in a moment later followed by Bofur.

In her hands, she held a sprig of Kingsfoil. She knelt next to Kili and began chanting something in Elvish.

Ara had only heard stories of the elves' healing powers. Watching Tauriel work was beyond anything she could've imagined.

With a final word, Kili was calm, no longer straining from the pain. His breath came in and out evenly.

Tauriel dressed the dwarves wounds. Words were whispered between them that Ara could not hear.

When the elven woman sat down, Ara offered her water, which she took but didn't seem to want.

"How came you to shelter dwarves in your home?" Tauriel asked.

"My husband smuggled them into town," Ara explained, "The rest of their company has gone to the Lonely Mountain. They say that Thorin, son of Thrain, has come to reclaim his kingdom."

"Yes," Tauriel said, "I know of this. You fought bravely just now. Even had I not been there, I think you would've killed the orcs easily. The strength of a mother protecting her children is nothing to take lightly."

"How do you know these dwarves?" Ara asked, blushing at Tauriel's praise.

Tauriel smiled. "They were prisoners of my lord, Thranduil. They escaped somehow. I've no doubt that your husband met them at the mouth of the river."

Ara felt another twinge of worry, wondering where Bard might be now.

"And what about Kili?" Ara asked.

Tauriel looked alarmed. "What of him?"

"I do not mean to pry," Ara said quickly, "You look at him differently, that's all."

"I...do feel something for him," Tauriel admitted, looking at Kili as he rested, "What it is, I cannot say for sure."

"I've always heard that elves and dwarves do not get along," Ara said.

"No. They do not," Tauriel said, becoming quiet and subdued.

Ara smiled. "It's not my place, but what stops you from pursuing this...whatever it might be?"

Tauriel looked at her. "You said it yourself: elves and dwarves do not get along. Such a union would be against our nature, not to mention forbidden by the King."

"I will not pretend that I am in a position to give you advice," Ara said, "But my husband already had three children when we married. Some people higher up did not look too favorably on our union and yet here we are: happier, I think, than most people in the world. If love is real, no king can stop it."

The she-elf blinked thoughtfully and grinned, but she did not get the chance to respond, for Kili's voice called to her quietly.


	10. Dragon Fire

A loud crash sounded from far away. Ara rushed to the window. "The mountain.."

She turned. "We have to leave. Children, coats on now. Bain, help get Kili into the boat. Girls, help me grab food and blankets."

Tauriel handed her her coat. "Don't forget yourself."

"Thank you," Ara said, bundling up quickly. Oin and Bofur lifted Kili and carried him out to the dock. Bain lay blankets down over the splintery wooden seats.

Tilda, Sigrid, Tauriel and Ara grabbed whatever they thought would be useful and packed it up.

The whole group crowded into the boat only just in time. Many of their neighbors were also scrambling to get out of Laketown. Boats clunked together in a rush to evacuate through narrow canals.

The Master's boat could be seen speeding away with what looked like a large portion of the town treasury.

Ara couldn't find it in herself to be angry at this show of cowardice, for the dragon's massive wings could be heard beating steadily toward the town. It couldn't be seen in the night sky just yet, making the threat even more horrible.

"I should stay and look for Bard," Ara said anxiously.

"No," Tauriel said, grasping her arm firmly as if expecting Ara to jump out of the boat any second, "If he's anything like you, I'm sure he'll find a way out. He would want you to be safe. You have your unborn child to think of."

Sigrid, Bain and Tilda gasped. Ara blinked and stared at her.

"I have...what?"

Tauriel let go of her arm and furrowed her brow. "I….thought you knew. I saw it on you as soon as I met you; there's no mistaking the glow of a woman carrying a child."

Ara glanced down at her belly, as if hoping to see some kind of sign. If her body hadn't felt quite normal recently, she would've chalked it up to the weather or stress from Lickspittle's threats.

Tilda screamed and pointed. A huge black mass zoomed overhead. What looked like a tornado of fire burst from the sky, setting alight a whole row of houses. The dragon had arrived.

"DA!" Bain cried.

She looked. Just as Bain said, Bard was climbing up the bell tower. Once he reached the top, he began shooting at the dragon as it passed.

"He hit it!" Bain said, "He hit the dragon, I saw!"

Tauriel hung her head, "His arrows cannot pierce its hide. I fear nothing will."

"I have to help him!" Bain cried, jumping off the boat and onto the walkway before anyone could react.

"BAIN!" Ara screamed, "BAIN, NO!"

But he was gone like a speeding arrow.

Ara crumbled into a seating position, crying. "I've lost them both."

"Don't lose hope," Oin said, "That husband and boy of yours are brave men. Have faith."

Ara, Sigrid and Tilda watched the city as they rowed further and further away.

Sigrid gasped and pointed, "The dragon! It just fell!"


	11. Reunion

"DA!" Sigrid and Tilda yelled into the crowd of people yelling for their own family members.

The shore was sandy, barren and cold. Everyone who'd escaped the town was congregated here.

The bargeman and his son emerged from the crowd.

Sigrid and Tilda rushed forward and hugged them both. Bard held his children close and looked at Ara, blinking back tears. "Thank you."

"You have chosen a noble woman, sir," Tauriel said, "She protected these children fiercely, even during an orc attack."

"You…" Bard said, holding Ara's arms, "saved my children from orcs?"

" _Our_ children," Ara said.

No sooner had she gotten the words out of her mouth than Bard wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply.

"If you think that's good, wait 'til you hear what else!" Tilda said.

Ara turned her head to look for Tauriel, but she'd disappeared.

"What is it, my dear?" Bard asked, holding his hand out to his daughter.

"Ara's going to have a baby!" Tilda said bouncing up and down excitedly.

Bard's jaw dropped slightly. He looked at Ara, waiting for some confirmation.

Ara nodded. Bard pulled his whole family close to him.

There was a commotion in the crowd. As they approached, the cause became clear. Alfrid Lickspittle, who it seemed had been left behind by the master, was causing problems.

Bard grabbed his wrist. "I wouldn't go turning on your own, Alfrid. Not now."

"It was Bard! He killed the dragon! I saw it with me own eyes!" a voice cried from the crowd.

"He brought the beast down! Shot it dead with a black arrow!"

"All hail the dragon slayer!" Alfrid cried, "All hail King Bard! I have said it many times. This is a man of noble stock. A born leader!"

"Do not call me that," Bard growled, "I am not the master of this town. Where is he?"

There was silence from the crowd.

"Where is the master?" Bard asked again.

"Halfway down the Anduin with all our coin, I don't doubt," Hilda Bianca said, pointing at Alfrid, "You would know, you helped him empty the treasury."

"No," Alfrid said as the crowd grew angrier, "I tried to stop him! I begged. I pleaded! I said, 'Master, no! Think of the children! Will no one think of the children'?"

But the restless crowd got their hands on him, demanding that he be hung.

"Enough! Let him go!" Bard commanded, "Look around you! Have you not had your fill of death?! Winter is upon us. We must look to our own. To the sick and the helpless. Those who can stand, tend to the wounded. Those who have strength, follow me. We must salvage what we can. Then we find shelter."


	12. Dale

"Take only what you need," Bard said, "We have a long march ahead."

Ara wrapped Lenna's wrist carefully. The seamstress had gotten it smashed between two boats in the escape. Luckily the rest of her arm was unharmed.

"Bless you, Ara," Lenna said quietly.

"Don't worry, Lenna," Ara said, "You'll be just like new in no time. Just let it rest and feel free to ask me for help if you need it."

Alfrid had been following Bard like a puppy dog all day. He was clearly hoping to gain the favor of whoever seemed to be in charge, as always.

"Where will you go?" he asked now.

"There is only one place," Bard said.

"The mountain," Ara said aloud.

Alfrid glanced at her and looked back at Bard. "You are a genius, sire. We can take refuge inside the mountain. It might smell a bit of dragon, but the women can clean that up. It'll be safe and warm and dry and full of stores, bedding, clothing...the odd bit of gold."

Bard shot him a look. "What gold is in that mountain is cursed. We will take only what was promised to us. Only what we need to rebuild our lives."

Bard then handed Alfrid some supplies, "Here. Pull your weight."

Alfrid looked inconvenienced, but obeyed without another word.

Ara finished wrapping Lenna's wrist.

"Thank you, Ara," the seamstress said, using her good hand to pat her on the shoulder.

Lenna walked away to help gather supplies. Ara sighed and rubbed her temples. Bard came over and lifted her chin gently.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Ara said, grinning faintly, "Just a little tired."

"Hold on a little longer," Bard said, "Things will get better."

"I know," Ara said, taking his hand and kissing it. She stood up and the two of them went to look for more people to help.

Once everything that could be gathered had been, the survivors began their trek toward the mountain.

Tilda came up and took Ara's hand.

"Hello sweetheart," Ara said with a smile.

"I found a little girl's dollie and returned it to her," Tilda said, "It made her very happy. She was scared and cold, I think."

"You're such a kind and caring young woman, Tilda," Ara said, "I'm so proud of you."

"When do we get to see the baby?" Tilda asked.

Ara chuckled, "Oh, not for a while, dear."

"Baby?!" a voice cried from behind them, "Ara, you're going to have a baby?!"

This set off a chain reaction and by the time they approached the ruins of Dale, everyone in the town had heard the news and at least half of them had congratulated either Bard or Ara.

They rolled into Dale in the early evening and got fires started.

"Take some rest," Bard said as his family gathered around, "You've all worked hard today."

"Look sire!" Alfrid said, pointing, "the braziers are lit!"

Bard looked. Up at the gates of Erebor, a light could be seen flickering in the setting sun.

"So, the company of Thorin Oakenshield survived," Bard said.

"Survived?" Alfrid asked, "There's a bunch of dwarves with all that gold?"

"I shouldn't worry, Alfrid," Bard said, "There's enough gold in that mountain for all. You take the night watch."

Alfrid rolled his eyes but obeyed.

Bard's family snuggled close together in the cold autumn night.

Sigrid, Tilda and Bain fell asleep quickly. Bard played absently with Ara's hair, deep in thought.

"Sleep," Ara whispered, "Tomorrow will be better."


	13. Elves and Dwarves

"Good morning, Alfrid," Bard said, "What news from the night watch?"

Ara walked next to him, taking stock of the needs of the town. Everyone was cold, sick and hungry. If something didn't change soon, those who survived the dragon attack wouldn't survive much longer.

"All quiet, sire," Alfrid said sleepily, "Not much to report. Nothing gets past me."

Bard and Ara walked out into the courtyard and stopped, stunned.

"Except an army of elves, it would seem," Bard said.

Ara had never seen an elf in her life before Tauriel and her companion showed up in her home. And now an entire army of them stood before her. They stood like statues, moving only to let them pass.

They were led by an elf king so grand and noble that Ara couldn't help but stare at him. He sat astride some kind of giant elk and wore robes of a silvery silken material and glimmering silver armor. A crown sat low on his brow and his mouth was pulled into an almost disdainful frown. He took of Bard and his wife with his piercing blue eyes.

"My lord Thranduil," Bard said, taking Ara's arm and approaching the elven king, "We did not look to see you here."

"I heard you needed aid," Thranduil said. He had a strong, commanding voice.

A horse-drawn cart appeared behind him. Once it stopped, the supplies held inside were distributed efficiently to all the starving people of Esgaroth.

"You have saved us," Bard said, "I do not know how to thank you."

"Your gratitude is misplaced," Thranduil said, "I did not come here on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine."

"You intend to go to the mountain, then?" Bard asked.

"I do," the king said, he then shouted a command in elvish and his entire army moved together, turning their eyes to the mountain. They began to march toward the gates of Erebor.

"Wait!" Bard cried, "You would go to war over a handful of gems?"

"The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken," Thranduil said callously.

"We are allies in this," Bard said, "My people also have a claim upon the riches in that mountain. Let me speak with Thorin."

Thranduil turned his head, "You would try to reason with the dwarf?"

"To avoid war?" Bard said, "Yes."

Ara admired his royal profile. She hated to admit it, but Alfrid was right. If anyone was suited to be king, it was Bard.

"Let me come with you," Ara said, "Thorin was gentle toward me once. Perhaps he would be sympathetic to a pregnant woman now."

Thranduil scoffed. "Do not expect sympathy from a dwarf, my lady, for they have none. Try, if you will, to reason with him. A horse will be prepared for you."

The king gave a command and in no time a horse appeared.

Bard and Ara hurried onto its back and rode up the hill, stopping at the gates. Several dwarves were waiting at the top, Thorin included.

"Hail Thorin, son of Thrain!" Bard cried, "We are glad to find you alive beyond hope."

"Why do you come to the gates of the king under the mountain armed for war?" Thorin answered, looking suspiciously down at both of them.

"Why does the king under the mountain fence himself in like a robber in his hole?" Bard retorted.

"Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed," Thorin said.

"My lord, we have not come to rob you but to seek fair settlement," Bard said, "Will you not speak with me?"

Thorin disappeared from the top of the gate. Bard and Ara approached a small hole near the bottom. Thorin was waiting there.

"I am listening," he said gruffly.

"On behalf of the people of Laketown," Bard said, "I ask that you honor your pledge: a share of the treasure so that they might rebuild their lives."

"I will not treat with any man while an armed host lies before my door," Thorin said.

"That armed host will attack this mountain if we do not come to terms," Bard said.

"Your threats do not sway me," Thorin said nonchalantly.

"What of your conscience?" Bard asked, "Does it not tell you our cause is just? My people offered you help and in return you brought upon them only ruin and death."

"When did the men of Laketown come to our aid but for the promise of rich reward?"

"A bargain was struck!" Bard reminded him.

"A bargain?!" Thorin growled, "What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food. To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom. You call that a fair trade?! Tell me, Bard the dragon slayer, why should I honor such terms?"

"Because you gave us your word," Bard said.

"My lord Thorin," Ara interjected, "I do not suppose you would remember me…"

"Of course I remember you," Thorin said, "The lady Ara. The only truly selfless person on the rotting log you called a city."

"Er...yes," Ara said, "I wanted only to tell you that the people of our town are good and true. Those that were in charge, I am sorry to say, were selfish and corrupt and I suppose that is why you have such hard feelings against the rest of us as well. But it is a new day, we are led by honest people now. My people, the people I grew up with, are suffering. Many are wounded and some are sick. I myself am with child and I don't know what we'll do when winter hits. I only hope you'll find it in your heart to help us."

"For your plight I am sorry, my lady," Thorin replied, "but you both must leave now."

"You gave us your word!" Bard said, "Does that mean nothing?!"

"Be gone!" Thorin cried, "Ere arrows fly!"

Bard slammed a hand against the stone gates angrily and left with Ara hurrying to keep up. The two of them rode back to town, their mission fruitless.


	14. The Wizard

"Oi! You! Pointy hat!" Alfrid cried to someone outside, "Yes, you! We don't want no tramps, beggars nor vagabonds around here. We've got enough trouble without the likes of you."

Ara ran to where he was. He was speaking to an old man clothed in gray with a pointed hat and a wooden staff. He looked like he had journeyed far for his face was coated with dust and his eyes were tired.

"Alfrid!" Ara cried, approaching the stranger, "Go do something useful!"

Alfrid glared at her and slunk away quietly.

"Forgive me, sir," Ara said to the old man, "What can I do for you? Can I get you anything? Food? Water?"

"No, thank you, my lady," the old man said, "My name is Gandalf. I must speak with your leader."

"Bard the bargeman has taken charge for the time being," Ara said, leading Gandalf through the crowd, "I am his wife, Ara, at your service."

"Ara," Bard's voice rang through the crowd. He approached and saw Gandalf. "Who is this?"

"Gandalf," the old man replied, "and I bring terrible news, I'm afraid."

"Come," Bard said. He led Gandalf and Ara to Thranduil's tent.

Thranduil did not seem pleased to see Gandalf.

"There is not much time," Gandalf began straight away, "You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves. War is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You're all in mortal danger!"

Bard stepped forward, "What are you talking about?"

"I can see you know nothing of wizards," Thranduil said, standing up haughtily, "They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from a distance, breaking hard in alarm. But sometimes a storm is just a storm."

Of all the elves Ara had met, she felt Thranduil was at the same time the prettiest to look at and the hardest to like.

"Not this time," Gandalf said, "Armies of orcs are on the move. These are fighters. They have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength."

"Why show his hand now?" Thranduil asked.

"Because we forced him," Gandalf said, "We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland. The dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them."

"The orcs that attacked us must've been searching for them that night," Ara said to Bard.

"His master seeks control of the mountain. Not just for the treasure within, but for where it lies, its strategic position," Gandalf continued, "This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the north. If that fell kingdom should rise again, Rivendell, Lorien, the Shire, even Gondor itself will fall."

"These orc armies you speak of, Mithrandir," the elf king said, "Where are they?"

Gandalf sighed, indicating that he didn't know. That was enough for Thranduil, who turned away. Even Bard wasn't sure if he should keep listening to the rantings of an old wizard.

"Since when has my counsel counted for so little?" Gandalf asked, "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"I think you're trying to save your dwarvish friends, and I admire your loyalty to them," Thranduil said, "But it does not dissuade me from my course. You started this, Mithrandir. You will forgive me if I finish it."

The elf king went out to check on his troops.

"Bowman," Gandalf said, approaching Bard, "Do you agree with this? Is gold so important to you? Would you buy it with the blood of dwarves?"

"It will not come to that," Bard said, "This is a fight they cannot win."

"That won't stop them," a familiar voice said.

Ara, Bard and Gandalf all turned to see Bilbo Baggins emerging out of the darkness.

"You think the dwarves will surrender? They won't," Bilbo said, "They will fight to the death to defend their own."

"Mister Baggins!" Ara cried.


	15. I Want to Fight

"Is Da coming?" Sigrid asked as she and her siblings settled in for the night.

"He'll be along a little later, I think," Ara said.

"He's always busy," Tilda sighed.

Ara kissed the little girl's forehead. "I know and I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your da is working very hard to get us and the rest of the town back on track. Things might be hard for a while, but I know you three will do the best you can like you always do."

"Will all the men and the elves really have to fight tomorrow?" Bain asked.

"I hope not," Ara said, "But I can't say for certain. Mr. Baggins brought us something very helpful. I hope that it changes Thorin's mind."

"If Da's going to fight, I want to fight too," Bain said.

"No, son," Ara said, tucking the blankets in around them.

"Why not? I'm old enough," Bain protested, standing up and moving toward the door.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Ara said, following him.

"You can't stop me," Bain said, "You're not my mum."

Ara stopped and so did Bain, who seemed to instantly regret what he'd said.

Ara collapsed onto a low bench. Bain sat beside her.

"I didn't mean to say that, Ara," he said, "I'm sorry."

"No, you're right," Ara said, tears welling up in her eyes, hidden by her long dark hair, "I'm not your mum. I never pretended to be. Your mum was taken from you far too soon and I couldn't change that. All I could do was try to make the rest of the journey easier for you."

"I-- I know," Bain stammered.

"I can't stop you from fighting if that's what you really want, Bain," Ara said, "After all, you did face the dragon alongside your da, and that's just as much if not more than any grown man could do. But.."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "But I also can't let you go easily. After all, what would your mum think if I, the one entrusted with keeping her children safe, let her only son put himself in danger without trying to stop him?"

Bain blinked. "You're right. I'm sorry."

He hugged her and went back to bed.

Ara stared out into the cold winter night for a while.

Perhaps now that they had the Arkenstone, the king's most prized jewel, Thorin's heart would soften and they could begin to rebuild their lives. Perhaps there would be no fight.

But the words of Gandalf hung heavy on her mind. An army of orcs, he'd said. Could it be? If the stories Gandalf told were true, the men of Laketown and the dwarves of Erebor were no match for them.

She worried so late into the night that Bard returned.

"Why are you up so late?" he whispered.

"Just thinking," she replied.

"Don't worry about anything else tonight, my love," Bard said, helping her to bed and kissing her goodnight.


	16. Another Army

"Another army!" Lenna cried, limping toward Ara, "Another army has arrived! They are preparing for battle!"

Ara swore under her breath and grasped Lenna's arm, "Thank you, Lenna."

She let go and ran up to the lookout.

The men and the elves were assembled as expected, but now-- just as Lenna had said-- another army had approached. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, she could only assume they were dwarves, since they were certainly not orcs.

"What is it, Ara?" Sigrid asked, breathing heavily after running after her guardian.

Ara pulled Sigrid into a tight hug. "Your father will lead our men into war. Pray that he is kept safe."

Tears formed in both Sigrid's and Ara's eyes as the battle began.

Fearful murmurs began traveling through Dale. Every able-bodied man was out in the thick of the fight and there was no way to hear any news.

Sigrid and Ara watched the battle from the lookout, looking for any kind of sign to give them hope.

A low rumble shook the valley, nearly knocking Ara and Sigrid off balance.

"What was that?" Sigrid asked.

"I don't--" Ara began.

Suddenly, from the base of the mountains a number of gigantic monsters burst from the ground. Their wide, fanged mouths roared and stretched as they wriggled their slimy tubular bodies back into the holes from whence they came.

Ara had only heard legends of wereworms before. Seeing one in person, even from a distance, was nearly as terrifying as the dragon attack. But what happened next was more than she could've imagined.

An army of orcs poured out of the holes the wereworms had made. Thousands and thousands of them streamed out like a puddle of wet tar.

Almost immediately, the elves, men and dwarves turned on the orc army.

"Find your brother and sister," Ara said firmly to Sigrid, "Get yourselves somewhere safe."

Sigrid disappeared quickly.

Ara continued to watch the fight until a horn blew from the mountain and orcs began to move toward the city.

"They're attacking the city!" Ara screamed, stumbling away from the city wall and rushing to find the children, "The orcs are attacking!"

This news was met with screams and people running to safety as best as they could.

In the commotion, Ara found Bain. He held a sword aloft, a frightened look on his face.

"Bain!" Ara said catching up with him, "where are your sisters?"

"I was looking for them!" Bain said, grasping Ara's hand and pulling her along.

The two of them called for the girls as orcs flooded into the ruins of Dale.

Sigrid and Tilda finally appeared, being chased by two orcs.

Bain slayed the first one with a practiced and fluid thrust.

The other attacked Ara. Being unarmed, all she could do was dodge its blows. She stumbled and the orc took a swing that would've killed her had it not been for Bain intercepting at the last minute.

Ara watched the orc fall in shock and then looked at her son. "When I said you weren't ready…"

Bain grinned slightly.

"Da!" Sigrid cried.

"Da!" Tilda repeated.

Bard was not far away, fighting another orc. He killed his foe and looked at his family with relief: a look that didn't last long before it gave way to fear again.

Ara, Bain, Sigrid and Tilda all turned to see a large, ugly lumpy troll coming toward them.

Ara stood protectively in front of the children, although she had no way of stopping the beast.

Just when the troll seemed about to take all their lives with one swing, Bard crashed an old cart into its chest, thrusting his sword into the monster all the way to the hilt, killing it.

He then turned to his family. Ara kissed him, weaving her fingers into his dark hair in case it was the last time.

"Listen," Bard said, grasping her firmly, "I need you to gather the women and children, take them to the great hall and barricade the door. You understand? You must not come out for any reason."

"We want to stay with you!" Tilda cried.

"Show your father some respect!" a sniveling voice said. Alfrid Lickspittle came around the corner.

He looked at Bard. "You leave it to me, sire. You heard him, we make for the great hall!"

He grasped Tilda's arm and swung her forward.

Without thinking, Ara reared back and swung her arm, backhanding him hard enough to leave marks where her knuckles had connected.

"Never," she growled, "put a finger on my children again. Do you understand me?"

Alfrid looked at her incredulously.

"Ara," Bard said, "It is time."

Ara scowled at Alfrid and led the children in the direction of the great hall.


	17. In Life and in Death

"I say we stand with our men in life and in death!" Hilda Bianca cried, "Arm yourselves!"

In a flurry of motion, makeshift weapons were distributed and everyone, even the sick and the wounded, headed out to give their last against the orcs.

"Stay with me," Ara said to Tilda.

"Don't worry about me," Tilda said, swinging the hammer she'd been given, "I like fighting."

"When have you fought anyone?!" Ara asked.

"Bain's been teaching me," Tilda said proudly.

Ara raised an eyebrow, first at her and then at Bain, who looked away innocently.

"Well," Ara said, flustered, "just stay close to me anyway, all of you."

The four of them met up with Bard and the family fought together.

The battle raged on for hours. Orcs and goblins swarmed by the thousands. Their numbers seemed to never end, no matter how many of them were killed.

Bard, Sigrid, and even Tilda fought bravely, looking past fear and exhaustion, with only hope for a victory that was nowhere in sight.

At last, another army joined the fight. A group of giant eagles and a large black bear.

Once they had joined the battle, victory finally appeared to be in reach.

Only when the last orc fell did Ara finally collapse onto her knees.

Bard and the children rushed to her side.

"Ara," Bard said, kneeling beside her and steadying her, "we've won."


	18. Here to Help

Thorin, the king under the mountain, along with two of his closest kinsmen, were slain in the battle. The people of Laketown paid homage to the fallen king and honored he who took his place. Dain, who had come to their aid, was now the king of Erebor.

Gandalf, Bilbo and the elves said a fond farewell and went on their own way.

With Bard as their leader, the remaining citizens of Laketown began to rebuild the once great city of Dale as their new home.

"Well?" Bard asked as Netch exited the chamber in which Ara lay. Sigrid, Tilda and Bain stood anxiously behind their father.

"Not to worry," the old woodworker grinned, clapping a hand on Bard's shoulder, "Mama is well; no serious injuries. And baby is still growing, just as healthy as ever."

Bard and the children sighed in relief.

"I'd better get to work on a fine cradle," Netch said, "It'll be my best yet."

Bard smiled and patted the old man on the back. "Thank you, Netch. For everything."

Netch smiled, his eyes squinting from his wrinkled cheeks, and turned to leave.

Tilda burst into the room first, followed by her siblings and her father.

"That baby is brave!" Tilda cried, "Not even a whole war could stop him or her from growing!"

She jumped onto Ara's bed with her.

"Well," Ara said, grinning, "the baby has three very brave siblings to learn from."

Bard sat on the edge of the bed and took his wife's hand.

Sigrid sighed and lay her head in Ara's lap. "Let's not do that again."

Ara and Bard laughed.

"No," Bard agreed, "No more wars if I can help it."

"So, Da, are you and Ara the king and queen now?" Bain asked, taking a seat on the other side of the bed.

"They might call us that," Bard said, "but we're only here to help."

Bain nodded.

"Well, come on," Ara said, lifting Sigrid's head off her lap, "We have a lot of helping to do."

She took Bard's hand and the five of them walked out into the courtyard, which was already beginning to look more like home.


End file.
